At this there was another mild uproar. Thanks to the room's extraordinary acoustics, I could hear quite distinctly the mingled shouts of scoffing and agreement within the general roar.

'Cicero is obsessed with the idea that blood will be spilled on election day,' shouted Catilina, 'only because he fears it will be his own.'

'And do you deny that I have every reason to fear?' said Cicero. Did I see his eyebrows go up, or was it the posturing of his whole body that expressed such eloquent irony? 'I have asked you already about the reports that have come to us that you are conspiring against the person of the consul—’

'And I have roundly denied them, and I ask you again: what reports, and from what sources?'

'You are the one who is here to answer questions, Catilina!'

'I am not on trial!'

'You mean to say that you have not been formally charged with a crime, but only because you have not yet had the opportunity to commit it,'

This brought on another uproar.

Above the din, Cicero shouted: 'And that is only because of the vigilance of your intended victim!' He crossed his arms and drew back his shoulders, wrapping himself in his toga as if to wrap himself in virtue, then seized the folds of cloth about his neck and drew them down to expose the glittering breastplate.

This provoked an even more raucous uproar. A group of the senators surrounding Catilina, presumably his allies, rose to their feet, some laughing, some shaking their fists and jeering. Instead of retreating, Cicero actually stepped towards them, baring more of his breastplate. Such brazenness only provoked an even louder uproar.

'This is worse than the mob in the Forum,' I whispered to Rufus.

'I've never seen it quite so chaotic,' he murmured. 'Even in the most passionate debates there's always a modicum of order and mutual respect, some humour to leaven the animosities, but today the whole chamber seems on the verge of a riot.'

Above the continued shouting of Catilina's supporters Cicero managed to make his voice heard. The power of his lungs was astounding. 'Do you deny that you have conspired to assassinate members of this august body?'

'Where is your evidence?' Catilina shouted back, barely audible above the roar of his own supporters.

'Do you deny that you have plotted to murder the duly elected consul of the Republic, and to do it on the next consular election day?'

'Again, where is your evidence?'

'Do you, Lucius Sergius Catilina, deny that your ultimate goal is to dismantle the state as we know it, and to do so by whatever means are necessary, no matter how violent or illegal?'

Catilina responded, but his voice was drowned out by his own supporters, giving Cicero, with his trumpet-like voice, the advantage. At last Catilina managed to quiet his own adherents, who returned to their seats. Catilina remained standing. 'With all due respect, the esteemed consul's accusations are deranged! He frets over the safety of the Republic like a mother afraid to let her child leave the house. Is the Republic so delicate that an honest election might kill it? Is he himself so vital to the state, is his insight so unique, that we would become blind men without him? Ah, yes, Cicero sees things that other men do not — but I ask you, is that good or bad?' This provoked some scattered laughter, and with it a marked lessening of tension. 'Contrary to what this New Man may think, the history of this Republic did not begin and will not end with his consulship.' At this there was more laughter and even some cheering.

Catilina smiled bitterly. 'It is not I who seek to thwart the will of the people, Cicero, but you!' At this there were catcalls and booing from the opposite side of the chamber. ‘Yes, for who else but Cicero is determined to keep postponing the election? And why? Because he fears for his own life? This is absurd! If a man had cause to kill our esteemed consul, why wait until election day?'

'To spread chaos,' Cicero answered. 'To frighten decent voters from the polls so that your own adherents can steal the election.'

'Absurd, I say! The true theft is occurring beneath our noses, and at the consul's behest, for by making the date of the election uncertain you disenfranchise those who must travel here to vote and cannot take up lodgings indefinitely in the city. The election has already been postponed once. Do not postpone it any further!'

'The election was postponed because of the auspices,' said Cicero. "The earth quaked, thunderbolts creased the sky—' At this there were scattered moans and jeers, presumably from sceptics, followed by a second wave of jeering from the pious who hissed at the doubters.

'Typically, Cicero, you change the subject, hoping to divert our attention from the real issue! The first postponement is over and done with. The auspices now are favourable. You have no religious reason to deny the election any longer.' At this, even some of the senators who had so far been silent murmured agreement and nodded gravely.

'Come, Cicero, you have debated long enough,' cried one of the older senators. This cry was taken up by many others. Cicero stepped back and surveyed the tiers, as if assessing his strength. He appeared dissatisfied, but as the calls grew louder for the debate to end, he stepped back and gestured to his fellow consul, Gaius Antonius, who commenced the reading of a proposal to postpone again the consular election and to censure Catilina for 'disrupting the state.' Those in favour were instructed to take seats on the left-hand side of the room; those against were to gather on the opposite side, where Catilina and his supporters already sat.

At this point Rufus left us to join his fellow senators in opposition to the proposal. I noticed that Marcus Mummius was of the same faction, as were Caesar and Crassus and their adherents. When all were settled, even without a strict counting it was clear that Cicero had been thwarted and the election would proceed. Gaius Antonius announced the result and summarily dismissed the assembly.

A murmur of conversation filled the chamber, above which could be heard Cicero's trumpeting voice: 'On the morrow we shall see who spoke wisdom. I foresee dangerous times for this Republic!'

'What eyes you have, Cicero, to see so much more than the rest of us!' called Catilina.

Many of the milling senators stopped their conversations to listen. They might not have had enough of their two colleagues' debate, but I had. I gestured to Meto and Eco that it was time to go, before we were caught loitering in the chamber without Rufus to vouch for us. We slipped through the half-open door by which we had entered. Catilina's voice echoed behind us. 'And do you know what I see, Cicero? Do you know what my eyes perceive when I study this Republic? I see two bodies—'

I stopped, suddenly alert, and turned back to listen. Meto was puzzled, but I saw in Eco's eyes that he, too, had heard.

Catilina's voice was echoey and distorted, like a voice from a dream. ‘I see two bodies, one thin and wasted, but with a swollen head, the other headless, but big and strong. The invalid with a head leads the big headless one about like an animal on a chain. Ask yourself, what is there so dreadful about it, if I myself become the head of the body which needs one? The story would be quite different then!'

Told in context, the meaning of the riddle was clear. I sucked in my breath at Catilina's audacity. Having had his way on proceeding with the election, now he dared to mock not only Cicero but the Senate itself, and in its very house. For what could the withered body with a swollen head represent but the Senate? And what was the strong, headless body but the leaderless masses, of whom Catilina proposed to become the head, and whose discontent he would harness towards his own ends?

Eco also understood. 'The man must be mad,' he said.